


Eyes Always Seeking

by lorarawr



Category: SEAL Team (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mandy-centric, don't fight me on this, inspired by s1 episode Enemy of my Enemy, mentions of human trafficking, mild cursing because have you met Clay?, more cursing because have you met Sonny?, non sexual male/female friendships, set in that weird time of everyone is together and no one is mad at each other, team fic, there will also be Clay whump because I know my audience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-08 13:33:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18624274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorarawr/pseuds/lorarawr
Summary: They lose Mandy on a Monday.  They plan to also get Mandy back on a Monday.





	1. Monday, Twilight

**Author's Note:**

> As a warning, there is some discussion regarding human trafficking in this piece. Human trafficking is a real thing still unfortunately in today's world. For more information, please see UN's website for resources: https://www.unodc.org/unodc/en/human-trafficking/index.html
> 
> Also, I am taking the hard stance that Cerberus is a girl. Don't fight me on this.

They lose Mandy on a Monday. By the time Blackburn finds out about her disappearance, twilight has descended on the base, and she has been out of contact for eight hours. No comms, no word through sources. Just silence. By the time Blackburn gets approval through all the channels to go in and get her, it’s been fourteen hours. There has still been no word from her.

She had gone out in the early morning, right after morning prayer. She had gone out into the neighboring city near the base, with only a local as a driver and interpreter, desperate for new information on the human trafficking ring that had popped up in the region. The night before she left, she had been all cavalier calm and certainty in the command center, even when Jason had presented initial unease at the plan.  
  
“You're sure you're okay with this?" He had said, standing across the long table, hands on his hips, “There's got to be another way to get more info on this guy."  
  
"Not with the time constraints were under. We've already seen fourteen girls go missing and end up on the black market this month. If we are going to stop this guy before the next 'buying day' we need to know more. We need to know who's he working with. Need to know who is his supplier on the Syrian side. We don't move now, don’t try and get some more insight, that's a lot more innocence lost. I wouldn't sleep well knowing that, would you?" Mandy had replied, mirroring Jason's stance on the other side of the table. Two perfect statues of stubbornness.  
  
"Still...." Jason has started before Mandy interrupted him.  
  
"Jason, this is what I do. It's what I've done before in Syria, J-Bad, Panama. You want the right information so we get the guy before he spooks and runs? Then I've got to do my part. Only way a target package gets approved is with this information."  
  
So she had left, her boss signing off without hesitation, desperate as well for more on the new ring.

But that was fourteen hours ago.

* * *

Eric finally gets off the phone, rather slams it down, shortly after the sun has set. He makes immediate eye contact with Davis, and tells her to summon Bravo team, double time. 

They arrive in less than five minutes. “What do we know?” Jason demands as the rest of Bravo filters in behind him, staring at Blackburn across the room.

Blackburn stands at the end of the table, his back to two screens that are quickly loading with images, maps, and feeds from drones flying over the area. Jason has known bits and pieces of what’s occurred over the past half day, but prays that things have taken a turn for the better. Judging by the look in his Commander’s eyes, and the stack of papers Davis is quickly setting by each seat for his team, it’s not looking good.

“As some of the team already knows, Ms. Ellis departed the base shortly after dawn with her driver, Mr. Amari. They were headed into the town of Ar-Rutbah to get more intel on the human trafficking ring that is funneling refugee woman out of Syria with the promise of a better life. That promise is a lie. There was hope of getting more info from two potential sources that had reached out via Ms. Ellis' network, regarding the points on the border where the woman and money are being exchanged.”

“We know who these sources are?” Ray asks, running his hands over his beard, and glancing at the map showing the town and the nearby border.

“That’s a negative. Ms. Ellis was planning to meet one at a local café in the town, and the other in a market. We do not have a visible ID on either source, though one is confirmed to be a male, older, potentially a local, but speaks English. Based on some voice modification, we believe the second source may actually be a female, but could not confirm prior to Mandy leaving.”

“So she went in blind?” Clay scoffs.

“This was intended to be recon only, with a belief that Ms. Ellis had and one that her superiors agreed to as well, that the second source was potentially a victim, so time was of the essence in getting any and all information.”

“Right,” Jason jumps in, easing the burden on Blackburn, who’s bearing the brunt of the decisions and unfortunately indecisiveness of two different government agencies at the moment, “Mandy thinks that these women, and potentially girls too, girls as young as six, are getting grabbed. Probably, it’s because they are being told that they are getting safe passage to the border in order to get to Europe, but instead are getting sold to either ISIS or the Taliban. They tend to cross the border with the women every three to four weeks into this area, and based on previous timelines, the next crossing is due to occur within the week.”

Brady, Mandy’s top analyst, a guy who’s been working with her, and by default Bravo team for a while, pipes in as well, “All we know for sure is that they cross somewhere north of the city, and that the women only stay in the area for a few short hours before being dispersed to different buyers. Once they are separated it gets incredibly harder to track the woman, or the men who are taking them. The two sources that reached out appeared credible, and mentioned that they next exchange was imminent.”

“So you let Mandy go in alone, to a town that’s serving as a front for a human trafficking ring, as a woman, alone, to get more information on a bad guy or guys that we know nothing about?” Sonny says, his Texan accent highlighting his disbelief at the turn of events.

“She’s worked before with her driver, Mr. Amari, and he has acted as her interpreter in the past anytime she’s in the region. She was planning to stay close to him.” Brady says, hands wringing in front of him, “She knew that it was risky, but between the two of them, she thought they could handle it.”

“There was no winning here guys,” Jason defends, attempting to stop the rising tension between his team, the members of the analysis team, and Blackburn. For now, he’s keeping his own arguments with Mandy from the night before to himself, “Pentagon wasn’t going to approve any target package without knowing who the target was, and raiding blindly at the border with Syria would just spook the traffickers and cause more chaos than anything.”

“We know Jase. Doesn’t mean we have to like it, but we get it.” Ray says, aiding in helping to bring down the tension in the room, and Trent nods in agreement, “So what’s next? Where’s Mandy?”

“That’s the problem, gentlemen, and it’s not one any of you all are going to like.” Blackburn turns back to the screens and throws up ISR of the town, before turning back to the team and crossing his arms, “Ms. Ellis missed two check ins with her superiors, and the one ‘unofficial’ one we had planned. Her third and final check in, the one she must miss before any and all rescue missions can be discussed, was only just missed 25 minutes ago. We’re gathering intel quickly, and the analysis team is working double time on possible locations where Ms. Ellis could be located, but time is not our friend here.”

“You’re telling me the CIA leaves agents out to dry for 14 hours?” Clay exclaims, honing in on that one fact Blackburn really hoped they wouldn’t jump on.

Blackburn can only nod morosely, “We tried to spin up sooner, but Mandy’s bosses boss thinks it could be that she’s still gathering intel, or having conversations outside the town where coverage is weak.”

“Also,” Jason buts in, “because the last time Mandy got into a bit of trouble, it was when she met with Abad Halani back in Karachi. That time, she was able to ‘get herself out of trouble' too, and with _very_ valuable intel. They don’t want to make a presence known if there’s any reason not to.”

“Well sure, Jace.” Clay breaks in, incredulous, “But that was Mandy gone for three hours, and she contacted the base almost immediately after leaving Halani. There was a Humvee waiting for her right outside the Pakistan border.”

Blackburn sighs, “Gentlemen look, it’s not an ideal situation, but now we’ve got permission to do our own recon.” He doesn’t mention how initially CIA wasn’t even game to go in now, wanting to wait closer to twenty-four hours before going in. It had taken pulling in the Rear Admiral to get the Agency to back down, the Admiral deftly reminding the spooks that while Mandy was assigned to Bravo team, the Admiral considered her a member of his team, and the Navy, unlike the CIA, does not leave their men and women behind.

With that Davis breaks in, “We’ve had ISR over the city now for about an hour, though if anyone from the CIA asks, it's been less than that. No unusual movement as far as we can tell for the past forty-five minutes, but it’s getting dark now. There’s been a small gathering beginning to form over the last quarter of an hour in the bottom part of the city, about seven or so blocks from the market where Mandy was planning on meeting with the second source. But we can't confirm the two are related."

“So that’s where we’ll start, pop in, say hello to a couple of the locals, find out where our wayward Ms. Ellis ran off too. My bet is she’s at the local Iraqi spa getting her toes done.” Sonny says, with eyes that haven’t left the live feed of the ISR since it’s been pulled up.

“Yeah, probably got herself a mimosa and a new shade of pink polish,” Clay agrees.

“Probably a massage. She’s always so tense” Ray adds in.

“You get her back safe and sound, and I’m sure she’ll paint all your toes, even Cerberus’,” Davis chimes in, smiling slightly when the dog tilts her head at the mention of her name.

“Our plan as of now is for Bravo team to take one Pave-Hawk helo in, and drop in about two clicks outside the city. From there, it’ll be a bit of improvisation, since there’s little confidence Ms. Ellis is still at either primary location. Brock, Davis has a few articles of clothing that might be useful for Cerberus.” Eric says.

Brock nods, and gently slaps the dog's side, "She'll find her, no doubt."

“What kind of car was the driver using?” Clay asks.

“An old sedan. Mandy would sit in the backseat usually, especially over here.” Davis answers. “It’s pretty beaten up, so you might not see it at first, but the registration tag starts with “LWU” if you find it.”

“I assume we’ve heard nothing from the driver either?” Rays follows up.

“That’s a negative. Your primary mission is to retrieve both Ms. Ellis and Mr. Amari. If the second source is indeed a female who’s been part of the human trafficking ring, retrieving her is a secondary priority, but only if it doesn’t endanger the primary mission. When you find Ms. Ellis, on the off chance she’s still searching for information, you have my permission to remind her of the grey hair agreement, and bring her home anyways.” Blackburn replies.

“What’s the grey hair agreement?” Clay asks

“That only Bravo team is allowed to give me grey hairs” Blackburn answers, with a small gruff smile from behind his beard. “Gentlemen, wheels up in five. Bring our girl home.”

* * *

 

The town is quiet when they enter the city limits. Ar-Rutbah is a smaller provincial town in Al Anbar province, only notable for its proximity to the border, and thus it’s capacity to be a channel for black market goods and terrorists.  All six of them advance in quiet ease, night goggles a-fixed as they pass the first block of buildings in the southwest corner of the city.

“TOC this is Bravo One, we’ve passed Rivers.”

“Copy that, Bravo One, passing Rivers.”

“I don’t like this one-bit, Jase,” Sonny says as the come up against a street corner. The streets are quiet, with no late-night walkers or bystanders. “We should have learned after Pakistan to not let her go out with limited info.”

“Look, as much as I want to agree with you, as Mandy said before she left, this is her job. This is what she trained for, as much as we trained for this.”

“Yeah, she go through SERE?”

“Sonny, stop that.” Ray butts in.

“I’m just saying, nothing good comes from fourteen hours of radio silence. And as much as Ms. Ellis likes to try and make us forget, her being a woman is a big disadvantage right about now.”

No one responds, and they continue up the second block, getting closer to the market where Mandy would have last been seen. If she made it to the market at all.

They get to the market after a few minutes and fan out to begin looking around, still silent, making every attempt to not be seen. The market is closed up for the night, stalls empty of goods, the skeletons of tomorrow’s work only.

From here, Brock pulls one of Mandy’s trusty scarves out of the plastic bag Davis had put it in, and places the item in front of Cerberus’ nose. The dog immediately begins to scurry, leading Brock to the edge of the market.

“Bravo One, this is Bravo Five. Bravo Nine has got something”

“Good copy Bravo Five, we’ll follow. TOC this is Bravo One, we’re passing Cho.”

Cerberus leads them down two alleys and an even smaller back way, coming to a block further on the edges of the city. She stops, but doesn’t sit, at a small house up against the corner of two streets and the wall from the old city.

“TOC this is Bravo One, looks like we’ve got a potential location for the package. We’re going to proceed with entry now.”

“Good copy Bravo One, proceed” Blackburn acknowledges from Command, the ISR watching at the men infiltrate the house.

They enter the building at speed, dusting the wooden door from its hinges, and letting Cerberus continue to lead inward. The first room they clear immediately, and enter the second room. As soon as they enter, chaos unfolds, as a man exclaims in shock at the intruders. Cerberus jumps up to attack him, dragging him across the floor, away from the side of the room he had been on.

Cerberus immediate attack becomes apparent almost immediately. On the other side of the room from where Cerberus is dragging the man to the ground is Mandy, tied up, bloodied, and blindfolded. Her head is down, and she doesn’t appear to be moving.


	2. Monday: Evening, Tuesday: Morning

It feels like the whole world pauses for a second as Jason and team take in the scene. It is both better and worse that what they had hoped for. And then, as they have been trained to do, the action resumes.

“Cerberus down” Brock yells, and the dog retreats. The man begins to rise, but not before Clay knocks him down again, and ties his arms behind his back.

“Bravo Three, this is One. We’ve got Mandy. Continue searching for other targets and the driver. Clear the house.”

“Copy that One.”

Jason and Trent approach Mandy together. She is partially undressed, and there’s minor bleeding from a long gash at her hairline. The blood has caked the left side of her face, and has seeped into the dirty rag her captors have tugged over her eyes. With gentle hands, Jason begins to untie the blindfold, and breathes a sigh of relief as Mandy moves around at his touch. He lets the blindfold drop away, and kneels down to her eye level.

Her body is ramrod straight, and tense as all hell, but her head swivels to take in her now visible surroundings. Mandy’s eyes connect with his, her irises seemingly fidgeting in anxiety she’s not letting her body show. But there’s recognition, and Jason is pretty sure he can see relief staring back at him.

“Hey there, we’ve got you. You’re safe. We’ve got you.” Jason adds, voice low and calm. He continues to softly talk to her, nodding once to Ray as he and Trent continue to untie her hands and feet. Ten fingers. Ten toes. No nail polish, but nails, so they’ll take it. Her right arm is already a motely of bruises, and her torso is a vivid showing of color as well. The men had taken her shirt, but left her in her bra, and Trent can easily feel at least one rib that’s either cracked or broken.

“Bravo One, this is Bravo Three, rest of the building has been secured. We found the driver, he’s KIA. Two more tangos, but they are down.” Ray accepts the report for Jason, and steps away from where Jason and Trent tend to Mandy to update Blackburn and the rest of the command center. 

“TOC this is Bravo Two, we are passing Burnett. The driver was KIA but Bravo One and Bravo Four have Mandy. She’s alive and being tended to.”

“Good copy, Bravo Two. Keep us informed.”

Ray can picture the scene back at command, the quiet celebration of knowing Mandy is alive, muted by the knowledge that the driver had died trying to make his own country a better place.

Clay keeps watch at the entrance of the room, eyes away from the ministrations of Trent and Jason. Sonny has joined Brock back in the main room, the body of the driver wrapped up and ready for exfil. They keep their heads on swivels, hoping the neighbors aren’t nosey. Ray, report to back to command finished, has led away the man they found with Mandy to the front room as well, preparing their prisoner, and taking initial photos so the analysts back on base can begin their work.

Mandy has slowly come out of her first wave of shock, and while she continues to tremble as Trent looks her over, Jason can quickly see her shields coming up, her focus honing in. After a few small sips of water from shaking hands, she begins to speak.

“His name is Mahmod Antar. His two associates never gave me their names, though one was I’m sure telling me in great detail what he was going to do with me tonight.”

Trent’s head goes up quickly at that, and before he can even speak, Mandy shakes her head at him, “Antar seemed to forbid it. Luckily for him, he spoke enough English for us to still have our conversation, even after he killed my driver. He was overjoyed to let me know that he’s involved with the trafficking ring, kept calling it “mukafa'at aldhahab”.”

“That’s ‘gold reward’” Clay says, body still turned away from them, eyes looking out from the doorway. “Sounds about right for a sex ring.”

Mandy nods, and then hisses. Trent’s hands immediately begin to probe her neck and base of her spine, finding a few more abrasions and another cut that had bled earlier in the day but now is clotting.

“He wanted to know how I knew about the women, how I knew this city was the base of his operations. He grabbed me almost immediately after I entered the market with the second source. She ended up being a woman, just like we had guessed.”

“Was it a set up?” Jason asks, “Did he plant the sources?”

Mandy goes to shake her head and stops before she starts, Trent’s administrations reminding her it’s not a good idea right now. “No, he grabbed me, and the woman I was meeting with at the same time. He, uh, he made me watch as she was killed.” She swallows, starts to say something else, and then stops. Takes a deep breath, looks Jason in the eyes, and continues, “She was fifteen.”

“Hey, look at me.” Jason says, keeping eye contact with Mandy, “We’re going to stop them. You did it, okay. You got the guy. You got the info. We’ll take him back to base, and you’ll get what you need. Okay? We’re going to get them all.”

Mandy’s eyes are brimming with tears, but she’s steadfastly trying to avoid them falling. “He bragged about how many women he’s sold. Said I would have caught a pretty price, but that there wouldn’t be enough of me left to sell.”

“Mandy, hey, stop, you’re safe. We’ve got you. We’re going home. Okay? We’ve got you.” Jason barely avoids sucking in his breath as she continues to explain what has occurred. She doesn’t need to see his reaction to those words. Doesn’t need to see how badly he wants to leave this room and punch a man into a bloody pulp in the next room. Instead he just repeats, for her sake and for his, “We’ve got you. We’re going home.”

She shakes her head, pulls herself together, ignoring the pain the motion causes, blinking tears away and staring him down with forming resolve. “Jason, the next exchange is tonight. He doesn’t show, they’ll all spook. We might never see these girls again. We need to be there. It’s close. This is our chance.”

Jason frowns, “Mandy, my mission is to get you home, okay? There’s a lot of people back on base who want to take turns yelling at you.”

She weakly smiles at that, “Blackburn mention the grey hair rule?”

“Oh yeah,” Trent adds, “and Davis mentioned a ‘cosmo rule’, but wouldn’t give anything else up about it.”

“We’ve got to keep ourselves busy somehow in command.” She comments, before turning back to Bravo One, “but Jason, regardless of what HAVOC wants, the exchange is tonight. There’s no way we can go home and let those girls suffer.”

Jason sighs. His immediate relief at finding Mandy alive has quickly evolved over their ad hoc debrief, and he’s settling into his three main emotions every time he deals with Mandy Ellis: pride, respect, and frustration. There she is, bloodied, bruised, with a foil blanket from Trent clutched around her shoulders her only attempt at modesty. Her eyes are steel, and he knows if he tries to drag her back to base, he’ll never hear the end of it. Knows that if he does that, she may never trust him again; hell she may never trust herself again if she doesn’t see this through. 

“Okay, let me talk to the guys, see what we can make up on the fly for a night ambush and assault. But” he starts, holding up a finger before she can begin, “Final decisions are up to Trent, and if backup can get here in time. Trent says you can’t go, we don’t go. HAVOC can’t get a few more bodies up here to help with ambush and coordination, we don’t go. Agreed?”

“Agreed. I can talk with Eric as well.”

“Right now, you’re going to talk to Trent here, and not leave anything out. I’ll take first pass at talking to Blackburn, make it my fault if a grey hair comes out of the conversation.”

She nods, and lets Trent start asking questions, having predominantly been looking her over in silence as she had conversed with Jason.

Jason claps Clay’s shoulder as he exits the room. “What are you thinking, kid? Know you’ve been listening.”

Clay doesn’t even pretend to not have been eavesdropping. “Seems like a lot to go through to not rescue those people. You know Sonny and the rest will agree, though Sonny hasn’t gotten a good look at Mandy yet. After that, it’ll be not just about rescuing the women, but also about beating some people up bloody, but it’s a two birds one stone kind of night.”

Jason scrubs a hand over his face and just nods. Thinks they’ll all be looking for a little payback after entering the room where she had been held.

“Bravo One this is TOC, what’s the SITREP? Lots of anxious people back here.” Blackburn comms in, as timely as ever.

“TOC this is Bravo One. Mandy was able to get from one of her captors the time and location of the next exchange. She advises that the information is accurate, and that this may be our one chance at stopping this ring.”

“Bravo One, I’m not going to like what comes next am I?”

“The exchange is tonight, about 100 kms from here at the border. We’ve got in our custody the man who runs point on this side. If he doesn’t show tonight, we may never see them again.”

“Bravo One, your mission is to bring Ms. Ellis back to base and recover the body of Mr. Amari. Not to continue north with a limited team and attempt an assault.”

“Understood sir, but we’re in a tough spot, and to put it bluntly, there’s been a lot of blood, sweat and tears already shed for this information. Bravo team is ready and able to help bring this home. I’d ask that some of the support team Alpha head out on the second helio and join us at a rendezvous site about 10 kms from the border.”

There’s silence for a second. Jason can picture Blackburn staring at Davis, Davis shrugging, but already calculating what additional resources they’ll need to get this done. Blackburn sighing, looking around the larger room at everyone else already knowing he’s going to give in, and then finally admitting it to himself.

“Bravo One, you’ve got a go-ahead from here. I’d like a report on Ms. Ellis condition from Bravo Four, in case she needs to return to base when the rest of the support team is dropped off.”

“Good copy TOC, Bravo Four will report soon, they’re just finishing up. Though, to be honest sir, you’d have to drag her away.”

“Understood. We’ll be in touch soon with more information on the rendezvous site. TOC out.”

Jason turns to Clay, who nods in understanding. “Alright, let’s do this.”

* * *

 

The set up for the assault is simple, and his men are in place. They’ve dragged Mahmod Antar, the main man behind Mandy’s abduction, to the exchange point and told him in no uncertain terms what will happen to him if he tries to warn his buddies off when they arrive. Sonny and Ray are on Overwatch, and Clay sticks near their new friend, reminding him often of how quickly a bullet could silence him for good. Since Clay is a gentleman, he repeats it in both English and Arabic.

Mandy has acquiesced to staying near where both helicopters have landed for the time being, the balance between Trent wanting to send her back to base, and Mandy wanting to see this through. Trent has put her arm in a sling, almost positive she’s got a break in her right forearm, and bandaged the three different lacerations: two on her head and one right under her rib cage. He’s estimating two broken or cracked ribs, thought that won’t be confirmed until she can get x-rayed. Trent had told Mandy straight up that he wouldn’t give her anything stronger than Tylenol if she stayed in the hot zone, him not knowledgeable enough on how alert she could stay in the field on morphine. She had nodded in understanding: hurt, and see it through in real time, or leave and get seen to, but deal with the anticipation of not knowing.

Since they are all cut from the same cloth, regardless of role, Trent knows before she answers which option she would take. He hands her an extra shirt from his pack, and helps her put it on, before giving her a gentle hug and heading to the site of the exchange.

The exchange, and the raid by Bravo team that follows after, are as textbook as disrupting human trafficking rings can get. Which is to say there’s not much of a textbook, but also that this isn’t Bravo’s first time doing it.

Clay and Antar drive out to meet the other group, with Brock and Jason in the bed of the truck. The car approaching from the other side is a non-descript white van that would have looked not out of place on the streets of New York, or seemingly the deserts of Iraq. The target comes to a halt about twenty feet away from where they had stopped their own vehicle.

They stay low as the vehicle comes to a stop, and Antar and Clay exit. Clay, dressed in ‘borrowed’ local garb, but with his body armor underneath, though not visible, walks head down behind Antar as they approach the other group. The men on the other side consist of a military age male dressed in western apparel, blue jeans and a shirt, with both a gun and a knife visible in his waistband. The other tango is more Antar’s age, dressed in more traditional clothing, with a gun firmly in his hand as they approach. The older man begins to speak at Antar as they come within spitting distance of each other.

This is of course, where everything goes haywire, like they all knew it would, and hoped it wouldn’t. As soon as Antar is close enough to his partners, he begins to scream in warning. As he screams, he lurches forward, and grabs the knife from the younger man’s belt and arches backwards to slash at Clay. Clay tries to jump back, but to no avail, and takes a long slash across his collar bone, right above where his chestplate ends. Off balance and with a burning pain erupting across his chest, he falls to the ground, scrambling for his ankle holster. Antar begins to approach Clay with the knife again, and the other targets confusion breaks and comprehension dawns. Clay watches from the ground, as he continues to scramble for his backup gun at his ankle, the other two tangos reach for their guns as well.  

However, Overwatch exists for a reason, and before Antar can take another step closer to Clay, he’s down. A second later, the older target falls, and a second after that, the youngest member of the ring meets his demise as well.

“Bravo Six, come in. You okay?” Jason’s voice is immediately in Clay’s ear, even as he can hear him jumping out of the bed of the truck some feet back.

“Yeah man, I’m fine. Fucking knives man.”

“He get you?” Jason asks, though this time not through comms, but in real life, holding out a hand to help Clay get back to his feet.

Clay nods, “Just a scratch,” though as he looks down, he can tell it’s going to be a hard sell, due to the white, light tunic he’s wearing. The blood is already quickly seeping down the robe, a startling picture even in the low light of the two car’s headlights. “Guy knew we’d end him, but still thought it’d be a good idea to go out doing something stupid.”

Jason nods. “Stay here, we’re going to secure the van.”

“I can come,” Clay protests, even as more of the team approaches.

“You stay there, Bravo Six.” Jason repeats, and then adds for Clay’s benefit, “Kid, we don’t want to scare who’s ever in that truck even more. Copy?”

“Copy.”

From there on it’s a good night, for all that it’s worth. They find inside the van twenty-three women and girls, ranging in ages from twelve to twenty. Mandy comes down from where she was waiting with the helicopters, once the all clear has been given, to appraise the situation, much to Jason’s disapproval. To add to Jason’s disapproval, despite his best efforts, Clay ends up needing to come over to speak and translate for the survivors. Clay is only saved from frightening the survivors more by Trent quickly applying a few bandages to the long cut across his chest in an attempt to stem the bleeding and providing Clay back his t-shirt from before, changing it out for the long, very bloodied tunic.

As with what is beginning to feel like every mission, the people Jason had told to stay back end up in the thick of it. Just another Monday.

By the time the women have been calmed down, and basic medical needs for the survivors have been appraised, Tuesday is dawning. It’s been almost twenty-four hours since Mandy had first left the base, and her energy and steel reserves are quickly faltering. To add to it, Clay, for all his bravado and assurance that it’s ‘just a cut’ is beginning to sway every time he stands back up from talking to a survivor, and Trent is not alone in seeing either of the two’s conditions decline.

“Boss,” Ray says, having come down from Overwatch after confirming there are no more tangos in the area, “Think it’s time for us to head out. Support Alpha can handle final talks as they wait for IAF to come in.”

“Agreed,” Jason responds, even as he watched Mandy and Clay approach the next woman, both softly speaking as they gather information. Jason keys his radio, “TOC this is Bravo One, we are passing Ball, and coming home. I repeat, Lucy, we’re coming home.”

* * *

 

 

Jason had initially planned on a quiet return to base, so of course it ends up being anything but. He’ll give Clay credit where credit’s due; at least the kid passed out once they were in the helicopter, so no one had to carry his ass to it. Clay did however give Mandy a bad idea, and she quickly follows Clay’s suit, passing out almost in tandem with him.

Trent nearly goes apoplectic.

It’s a dropping blood pressure due to blood loss, and probably a bit of pain for Clay. Easily fixed with fluids, rest, and stiches to close the wound. Clay’s “just a scratch” will need some major needlework to close properly, and without a gnarly scar.

It’s exhaustion, low blood sugar, pain, the final effects of shock and adrenaline depletion for Mandy. Mostly easily fixed with the same fluids and rest, a good meal Davis sneaks in, and the sense of security the base will hopefully provide.  She’ll also need a cast on the arm, new wrapping on her ribs, the good pain medication, and most likely, a sleep aid. How they’ll deal with the mental trauma is still to be seen, but she’s tough stock.

Trent knows this. But knowing it, and dealing with it are two different things, and it’s amplified by the four other members of his team who all start yelling at once.

The body of a helicopter is not the best place for additional first aid, especially with how many are in there currently, but they’ll make do. Ray, sitting next to Clay, eases him down fully to the floor on Trent’s orders. Brock, on the other side of Six, helps stack his legs on top of his ruck. After a few moments, Clay blinks into awareness, mumbling to himself and grinning sheepishly at his current position. Trent ends up starting an IV on him to begin pushing fluids in, and tells him if he moves the dog will sit on him.

Sonny, who ended up as the shoulder Mandy drops on, tries valiantly to wake her up and have her drink water. She rises to semi consciousness, but nothing greater than that. She falls in and out of consciousness the rest of the flight, her face transforming from one of steel and ice to one of pain and uncertainty, with each rise to consciousness having less ability to orient herself to where she is. Jason eases her from Sonny’s shoulder onto his, and gently talks to her the rest of the way back to base, murmuring nothings into her ear in hopes of easing her anxieties. Sonny, his initial burden gone, finds his hand softly clutching her hand and doesn’t let go.

Trent radios ahead to have medics with stretchers ready when they land. Davis tells him they are already on the landing pad, awaiting their arrival. But only a few people she says. They’ll save the fanfare for later.

 


	3. Epilogue: Wednesday, and Beyond

By the grace of Davis, Mandy and Clay are in rooms right next to each other at the base hospital after they arrive in the morning of Tuesday. Clay attempts to again tell someone, this time the doctor, that it’s just a scratch. The doctor responds by giving him thirty-three stitches and an overnight stay.

The overnight observation comes in handy, when as Clay is known to do, he throws a fever from the beginnings of an infection.  The staff catch it in plenty of time, due in part to Trent who spends the night in Clay’s room. Clay begins to toss and turn in the waning hours of Tuesday, breaking out into a sweat, and throwing off his blankets.

An antibiotic regime is quickly put in place, followed by a tetanus booster that Spencer is not happy about at all. Mostly since the booster goes into his ass, as he complains about to Sonny the next time he sees him.

“Now hush, Goldielocks. If you play nice, and stop complaining, they’ll let you out today,” Sonny says the following morning, Wednesday, as he aggressively fluffs a pillow he stole from Clay’s bed. Clay awaits it’s return and he is rapidly dismayed when it turns into a cushion for Sonny’s ass sitting in the chair next to the bed. Sympathy pain for Clay, he’s sure. “Stop getting fevers from rusty dirty knives, and people will let you do whatever you want, and not stick needles in your ass.”

“It’s not my fault,” Clay retorts, plucking at the tape near his IV line, and glaring at his stolen pillow. “Also, I don’t think the knife was actually rusty.”

“Hey!” Sonny swats his hand away, “No touching the doohickeys. What did I just say about playing nice?”

“Honestly Son,” Clay leans his head back onto his one remaining pillow, “How many brain cells do you have? Doohickey?”

“More than you brother, that’s for sure. Never have I seen someone more convinced they were going to escape a trip to medical, bleeding as much as you, and half-conscious on a stretcher. You sounded like an idiot. If Jason hadn’t been so off his game due to Mandy, your ass would be in the fire right now.”

“He still sitting with her?”

“Yep,” Sonny drawls out, “Either him or Blackburn. She’s not sleeping all that well from what I hear, no surprises. It took them a while to get her blood pressure stabilized, and they were being cautious with her pain medication because of it. The docs were worried for a second she had some internal bleeding, one of the punches from that asswipe nearly bruised her kidney.”

“Fuck me”

“Never in a million years, pretty boy. Nor, by all that is good was that something that happened to our good friend across the hall. A blessing I’m not sure how we were granted.”

“You got that right,” Clay replies.

“As for you, Trent told me to tell you that games of telephone are never fun, and also if your fever stays down, we’d spring you in the afternoon. Let you sleep in the mildly more comfortable bunks back in the compound.”

“Can’t wait,” he replies honestly, thinking fondly of the shower he may even be able to convince them to let him take. Between the sand, dirt, blood, and sweat from his fever, he feels like he was in the field for nine times longer than they actually were.

“Until then,” Sonny continues, “Rest up, and try to eat something, our little fainting princess. If you wish to let down your golden hair, maybe I’ll even steal you some jello from the commish.”

“Okay one, fuck you and the number of princess metaphors you know, and two, blue jello?”

“Do I look like a waiter?”

“No, guess I’ll wait for Brock then.”

“Damn straight, Cinderella. Maybe you can teach Cerberus fetch.”

* * *

Across the hall, things are a bit different.

Mandy tries to shake it. Tries to act like after Karachi and Halani, shaken but not breakable. Tries to have a cup of coffee and act like it’s nothing. But compared to Antar, Halani was a gentleman. He had left no bruises, no bodies. She’d come back to base confident and of her own agency. This time she’d been brought back on a stretcher, with dim awareness of what happened between the final hand off of the survivors and arriving at the base hospital.

She doesn’t want to speak to her superiors about the intermittent hours between radio silence and rescue. Doesn’t want to repeat what Antar had said as he made her watch someone be killed in front of her. Mandy is not a shrieking violet. She has watched people be killed before. She has been responsible for people being killed before. But she has never felt as helpless as she had felt, tied to a chair, pleading for Antar to let the girl go.

The first night back on base she does not sleep. A combination of pain and anxiety and terror have her jolting herself up every time she starts to go under. Even with Jason in the room, the great and powerful Bravo One, she can’t convince her body to surrender. The days are easier though, as much as they can be.

Eric and Jason and Lisa are a constant revolving stream; Eric tutting at her, waving his finger, reminding him of their deal. She tells him there’s a bottle of bourbon waiting for him back state side, and to please let her know if any other grey hairs arise. He stares her down, his eyes gently framed by his gruff face, and reminds her he would move heaven and earth for every member of _his_ team. She nods, and doesn’t acknowledge the tears the fall from her eyes, nor does Eric. He sits and does horribly at sudoku puzzles the rest of the time and she eventually takes pity on him and helps.

Lisa brings chocolate Wednesday afternoon, and the acknowledgement that chocolate isn’t going to cure all wounds, but it sure is an excuse to eat it. She smiles when she confides in Mandy that all the guys had showed up, individually, at different times over the past day to give her some from their secret stashes.

“A)” Lisa had started, “it’s not like I don’t know exactly where they all hide all their shit, and B), my god they all truly believe women’s number one priority for any bad situation is chocolate.”

Mandy takes a bite out of a pretty high-quality bar of dark chocolate with almonds, Brock’s probably, the first thing she’s been able to taste since Monday, and shrugs. She makes eye contact with Lisa, and smiles as they say in unison,

“Men.”

Jason lets her roll in her own brain the first day, and lets her sleep the second. The “lets” in that, of course, being a matter of debate between who tells who what to do that supersedes this incident and more paints a picture of their entire working relationship. Mandy lets Jason be deep in his thoughts the first night, and she lets him feel purpose by guarding her as she sleeps all the second day.

The third day, the day Clay leaves the hospital, and retreats to the compound, Mandy expects Jason to leave with them. Back to his team, get the kid settled, send someone else in his stead. But Jason Hayes has always surprised her. He shows up again, sits in the chair backwards by her bed like the cowboy he is, and stares at her. The minutes tick by until he finally breaks the silence.

“So... We going to talk about this?”

“I’ve already talked about this. You’d be surprised by the number of people you have to talk to when you get captured, questioned, rescued, and then help to stage an infield off the cuff operation in the middle of the Iraqi desert. Apparently, also, the Navy never talks to the Agency, so double that, and that’s how many people I’ve gotten to talk to. I think the Army is getting a little jealous by all the action and might just start showing up so I can talk to them too.”

“Yeah, and you actually _talk_ to any of them?”

“Jason…” Mandy sighs, shifting in the bed, feeling a twinge from her two only, thankfully, bruised ribs. “I’m fine. A bit bruised, with one bum arm for the next few weeks that’s really going to impact the number of reports I’m already late on, but that’s it.”

“No, it’s fine I totally believe you. Except, I’m in here you know, I’m in here, in this room. So, you can act cavalier with all them as much as you want, but I want to make sure the Mandy who told me she knew what she was doing Sunday night is still the one I’ve got here now.”

Any other day, she can handle Jason Hayes calling her to the mat and have a response. Go head to head in brashness and bluntness and stubbornness. That’s why they work. But she’s raw, and she has had to talk to _so many_ people. Has had to appear put together and only a little bit shaken to so many people. Has had to be unshaken and unfrazzled when all she wants to do is shake.

She tugs at the frayed ends of her blanket, and doesn’t look up at him. “I’m not sure you’d like the answer to that question. I was dumb. I made a mistake. I got cocky. People died because of that.”

“Bullshit.”

Her head whips up at that, incredulous, “Oh now, you’re my biggest advocate? What happened to the Jason Hayes from Sunday night who told me I wasn’t thinking this all the way through?”

“Yeah well I still think that, but that’s not the point.”

“Then what’s the point Jason?” Mandy retorts, “Maybe you were right, a while back, when you said I didn’t understand the field enough to make decisions. Maybe this was the universes way of shaking me a little bit. Putting me in my place.”

“And to that, I repeat, bullshit. I don’t believe that, and I doubt you do either.” Jason signs, and looks down at his clasped hands. He takes a deep breath, and then brings his head up to look at Mandy, “Wanna know the truth? There’s something I never told you.”

“About what?”

“About when you first joined up with Bravo.”

“Let me guess, you hated me when I first arrived, but I won you over.”

“No, not at all. In fact, the opposite. But, uh, Alana. Alana used to be afraid of you. Had heard all these horror stories from her college friends about men who had been swayed by the women in their offices. Our CIA partners prior to you had always been these older guys who we always ended up not liking. And then, all of sudden, I’m talking about this young woman who’s now involved, now in the room, now sees me those 300 days she doesn’t. And on top of all of that, she’s taking no prisoners, has got this freaky stare into your soul type expression, and is constantly impressing Sonny, Nate, Ray, even me. You sounded like the perfect storm. The thing her friends had always warned her about.

“And then you appear at the first summer barbeque, begrudgingly, I might add, and Alana had just started laughing. Said you would be too much for me to even handle. Said you were too smart, too wise, too sure of yourself to ever settle for a frog-man. I was appropriately insulted because I am the perfect specimen, but Alana was right. You are smart, you are wise, and you can handle anything that’s thrown at you.

“Don’t let this shake you, Mandy. You were right. It was a bad call to go in blind and without back up, but in the moment, no one could think of an alternative. Not me, not Eric, not your team. Sure, in the future will it be harder to shake a Sonny or Brock shaped tail? You bet your ass. But you weren’t wrong, and you saved twenty-three women from a horrible fate, and who knows how many others.”  

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. There’s nothing to thank me for. Just know that we’ve got your back. And you didn’t fail. Or you failed, but not nearly as badly as you’ve been letting yourself think in your head. But let me know if you need to talk. You and me, Ellis, we’re the freaks on the totem pole, too many below us, too many above us. We got to stick together.”

“That our new motto? Freaks on the totem pole?”

“Only if you never tell Sonny.”

“Agreed. And, Jason…” she hesitates for a second, shifts again, sighs inwardly at the pain her ribs continue to give her. Starts again, “Jason, I knew you were coming for me. Knew it the second I got nabbed. Think I spent the first hour dreading the rescue, because I knew I’d have to say you were right.”

“Well sure, because we’re Bravo Team. We’re the best. And you’re a part of that team, that family. Our misfits as you like to call them. Misfits, by the way, that are quickly planning your escape out of here to something a bit better for a few hours.”

“An escape huh?”

“Yep, I’m here to warn you that in approximately four hours you are going to be taking part in a great escape from this room, back down to the DEVGRU compound, where the magician known as Davis has surprises in store.”

“It’s fried chicken, isn’t it?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny, just letting you in on some recon.”

In the end it is fried chicken, the best of the lawn chairs with additional blankets, and Ray acting as her personal gofer for beers the rest of the evening. In the second-best chair next to her, Clay complains, loudly, that he wants a beer too, which everyone ignores. She takes to ordering two beers, and even as Ray tells her he’s got his eyes on her, she slips Clay the second beer. They cheers.

It’ll take time. Time to really trust herself again. But she’s got this motley crew. A job where she saves the goddamn world. Tomorrow doesn’t seem so bad. At least it’s not a Monday.

* * *

 

An email pops into her inbox her first day she's allowed her work laptop. She was officially released from the hospital Thursday afternoon, but _someone_ had confiscated her laptop before she arrived back to her quarters, and it had only magically reappeared sometime in the early morning of Sunday.

 

In between the normal chatter, a few admin emails, and notices that several reports are past due, is a name that surprises her.

               

 

> M-       
> 
> Heard a rumor an intel officer was ‘questioned’ for several hours in your area of the world. My sources couldn't give me a name, but I can’t shake a funny feeling. Write back and tell me all my sources are crap, please.    

> Paul
> 
>  
> 
> _p.s_. heard this intel officer probably saved the day too, so not surprised

 

She drafts a response,

 

> Paul   
> 
> Your sources are always crap. Here at the State department we always double check our intel.  I’ve got a few days of R&R coming up due to a minor fall (typing with only one hand is not good for business). Looking forward to catching up on all your recent submissions to the gossip column.
> 
> M

 

She looks it over, smiles, and hits send.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I know there's this desire to villainize Mandy in this fandom, and while I understand she can be abrasive and make bad calls, so does everyone else in the show, even Jason and Clay. I love Mandy for her personality, for her ability to distance herself, and most importantly, for doing a very badass job in a role that we all know was a boy's only club until very recently. I think the relationship that her and Jason have is a unique one of respect and mutual frustration at each other, which I adore. 
> 
> Also, after the episode of Enemy of My Enemy, the team's respect, trust and desire to protect her seemed to be projecting itself off the screen, which stayed with me, and spawned this "what if?" scenario.


End file.
